As The Wind Blows
by mew-xena
Summary: AU In a different world, a world where heroes are merely researchers, the soul of Rodney McKay rides the wind. Team Fic Warning: Character Death


**As The Wind Blows**

It had started off as a normal day. The sun shone brightly overhead, scorching their necks until they were blister red. Water was precious in this Middle East Desert, a scarcity that couldn't be wasted on trivial matters like cooling down. And so the team burned and grew hotter and hotter with each passing hour. Yes, it had been a normal day for this group of archeologists.

Until things turned bad.

The team, consisting of four, travel weary and barely recognizable as human beings. Wind and sand had taken their toll. In front of the pack, Major John Sheppard, the leader, turned out look at his dusty eyed comrades. Teyla looked back at him, amber eyes gazing curiously. Those same orbs took in everything with wonder, overwhelmed by the differences between this world and her home tribe. Behind her, Aiden Ford surveyed the landscape. Protection was his main priority and rebel bands of Bitmu could appear at any moment. The religious outcasts saw no foul play in kidnapping hostages and these four were prime targets. But the horizon remained clear on the long trek to the ruins. As the stone building came into sight, a cry was issued from somewhere behind John. John dropped to the ground and spun, eyes full of concealed worry. With a sharp pang, he watched as the last member of his team, Doctor Rodney McKay, fell the dunes below.

"Rodney!" he shouted, trying desperately to have his voice heard over the sounds of gunfire. Sand flew as he rushed to his teammate's side. Teyla was already there, copper hair flying in her haste. The sweat on honey brown skin gleamed in the sun as her fingers danced across McKay's neck, begging for a pulse. Her strong nose wrinkled in but relaxed.

"He is alive!" she cried and John nearly sagged in relief. But still, he continued his frantic run, finding himself by her side in only moments. His solid oak eyes scanned the Doctor's body. As a seasoned, retired warrior, Major John Sheppard knew the look of death. That look was plastered all over McKay's face, mutated by the blood that had sprayed as the bullet entered his lung.

"We have to get him back to the tents right away," he cried, as he spun to help Ford.

"Face it…guys…" The rough voice came from below, emitting form the broken body of McKay. He coughed and blood spurted from his lips.

"I'm…a…goner."

"Don't say that!" John snapped, fumbling with the safety latch. When it clicked he swung the P-90 over his shoulder and let lose a rain of bullets. Cries could be heard from behind the ruins, cried issued from the mouths of the Bitmu.

"John…" McKay grabbed his arm. John looked down at him, trying not to look as the crimson stain spread. The look in McKay's eyes was deep and determined. There was no future, no second chance for this man and he knew it.

"I have a…sister," he choked out. A trickled of blood ran down the side of his mouth. "Step-sister….actually. Tell her I…" John could see his the gears in his brain working, fighting the haziness to bring peace to his only loved one. "Tell her…I died saving someone…kids…"

Tears threatened to escape form John's eyes as he chuckled. What did you tell a sister? The dig was a government secret and John strongly doubted that she would have clearance.

"I will Rodney. I will." He murmured, kneeling by his friend's side. The guns shots had stopped and the air was thick with stifling tension. Ford rushing up the sand hills, horror in his eyes.

"How is h-" The young man stopped short, starting in disbelief. He dropped to his knees by John. Teyla smothered a sob as she scooped to cradle McKay's head in her lap.

"Hey…Ford…Some fight." McKay rumbled, his voice barely audible.

"Yeah well," Ford said in a chipper tone that cracked. "You should see the other guy."

McKay laughed. The slight chuckle quickly transformed into a deep, harsh cough.

"Woah McKay." Ford reached back to grab his water bottle. McKay reached up slowly to grab his wrist. His eyes, eyes that were the color of the deepest ocean, looked meaningfully into Ford's. Slowly, reluctantly, Ford dropped the bottle and clasped his friend's hand. McKay smiled, a smile that told them everything. No words needed to be spoken between these four. They shared a bond so great that impending doom only strengthened them. They sat together, giving each other comfort, an island of hope in the harsh sea of sand.

A soft, forgiving wind swept over the desert the day they brought the body of Doctor Rodney McKay back. A breeze that spoke of endings and beginnings, of trust and love.

And now, when the winds blow, they can see him, even if only for a moment, they can hear his voice. The soul of Rodney McKay lives on.


End file.
